Saturday, May 20, 2017
The Dark Side of the Shrub
As the title suggests, the first few surveys have been kind of rough. I swear I haven't been walking under ladders or whatever, but I've got a feeling I'm followed by a hundred little missteps.
My first grid of the season is such a curse exemplified. I unwisely chose to attack the most remote of my sites first. I've driven my shared of forest service roads, but these tracks were perhaps the steepest, rockiest, and downright scariest bits I've ever driven. Couple that with sketchy maps and directions, and by the time I got to the site my nerves were fried. Normally I also ease into isolation, but this time it jumped me, so built up a little more anxiety. The next morning was a mixture of shrubby bits and steep hillsides, which led to a less-than-spectacular start. I did the survey well enough, didn't have any mystery birds or problems with the protocols. Driving to the next site I got another dose, ripped up a tire. Changed it in record time though.
Since then it really hasn't been so bad. Still, definitely dominated by thick, stabby shrubs and steep hillsides. Stabby in that it easily through jeans and longjohns, leaving behind lots of little angry red scratches and pinpoints. My third grid was a decent walk-in before sunrise battling shrubs, and the rest of the grid was dogged by sulky weather and a few 45-degree scrabbles. As a brand new grid, I have the honor of naming it, but still debating their titles. "Dark Side of the Shrub," comes to mind, among "Shrub Wars: No Hope", "Return of the Shrub", "Attack of the Shrubs", "The Stabby Menace", "Revenge of the Shrub", "The Shrub Strikes Back", or "The Shrub Awakens". Looking forward to naming something "The Last Shrub". Hey, other people named their "Aspen Canyon of Hell" and "Thickets" (both of which I'm going to survey!). All our supervisors require is that is has no bird names or expletives.
OK, I said it hasn't been so bad, and that's true. My most recent grid was a delight, after I boulder-hopped a stream and climbed out of a small canyon to get there. Mostly flat at the site and gloriously free of my unholy nemesis: desert holly.
I'm feeling sanguine again, owing to the two days I took off in St. George. Nice to be able to pick my own time off, even if we have a due date to get everything finished. Went into town to get new front tires, but also took the opportunity to research the rest of my grids, get some backcountry maps, finish my paperwork, surf the internet, eat delicious food, sleep in a bed, take hot showers, and actually catch "Guardians of the Galaxy 2" in theaters. Saw the sights, or rather the sight, of St. George, the St. George Temple. Had a Mormon guy try to convert me, no juice. Pretty building though.
This evening I drive into the site I put off, now that I'm rearmed with my spare tire and fresh groceries. I'm pretty sure it'll get easier (right?). To paraphrase Professor Challenger in a cheesy Lost World movie, "Science awaits! Unsheath the sword of intellect! Maybe bring a machete?"
My first grid of the season is such a curse exemplified. I unwisely chose to attack the most remote of my sites first. I've driven my shared of forest service roads, but these tracks were perhaps the steepest, rockiest, and downright scariest bits I've ever driven. Couple that with sketchy maps and directions, and by the time I got to the site my nerves were fried. Normally I also ease into isolation, but this time it jumped me, so built up a little more anxiety. The next morning was a mixture of shrubby bits and steep hillsides, which led to a less-than-spectacular start. I did the survey well enough, didn't have any mystery birds or problems with the protocols. Driving to the next site I got another dose, ripped up a tire. Changed it in record time though.
From the cliffside of a shrubby grid, pretty if exhausting
Since then it really hasn't been so bad. Still, definitely dominated by thick, stabby shrubs and steep hillsides. Stabby in that it easily through jeans and longjohns, leaving behind lots of little angry red scratches and pinpoints. My third grid was a decent walk-in before sunrise battling shrubs, and the rest of the grid was dogged by sulky weather and a few 45-degree scrabbles. As a brand new grid, I have the honor of naming it, but still debating their titles. "Dark Side of the Shrub," comes to mind, among "Shrub Wars: No Hope", "Return of the Shrub", "Attack of the Shrubs", "The Stabby Menace", "Revenge of the Shrub", "The Shrub Strikes Back", or "The Shrub Awakens". Looking forward to naming something "The Last Shrub". Hey, other people named their "Aspen Canyon of Hell" and "Thickets" (both of which I'm going to survey!). All our supervisors require is that is has no bird names or expletives.
OK, I said it hasn't been so bad, and that's true. My most recent grid was a delight, after I boulder-hopped a stream and climbed out of a small canyon to get there. Mostly flat at the site and gloriously free of my unholy nemesis: desert holly.
Peter's Leap, the canyon at my nice grid
I'm feeling sanguine again, owing to the two days I took off in St. George. Nice to be able to pick my own time off, even if we have a due date to get everything finished. Went into town to get new front tires, but also took the opportunity to research the rest of my grids, get some backcountry maps, finish my paperwork, surf the internet, eat delicious food, sleep in a bed, take hot showers, and actually catch "Guardians of the Galaxy 2" in theaters. Saw the sights, or rather the sight, of St. George, the St. George Temple. Had a Mormon guy try to convert me, no juice. Pretty building though.
St. George Temple flocking with wedding-guests
This evening I drive into the site I put off, now that I'm rearmed with my spare tire and fresh groceries. I'm pretty sure it'll get easier (right?). To paraphrase Professor Challenger in a cheesy Lost World movie, "Science awaits! Unsheath the sword of intellect! Maybe bring a machete?"
Sunday, May 14, 2017
A new day, a new field season
It's May again, which means the bright new beginning of another field season. This year I've traveled to the majestic land of Utah, working for the Intermountain Bird Observatory (IBO), which collaborates on the larger project Integrated Monitoring in Bird Conservation Regions (IMBCR). If you wanted another bit of confusion, I'm actually hired by Boise State University, which is the home of IBO. Who or what I'm working for aside, the task is to travel southwestern and central Utah looking and listening for birds. Whatever I find can then help the project understand trends in bird diversity across public and private lands in Utah and ultimately the western United States.
Exactly a week ago I arrived in Ephraim (locally pronounced EE-frem), to camp and begin IMBCR training. Besides myself there were the other two IBO techs, our two supervisors/coordinators, and about a dozen other birders from different organizations to learn the IMBCR protocols. The training went on through Saturday, so it's been a busy week. Mornings we visited different habitats and practiced point counts (bird surveys) and vegetation surveys. After a hodgepodge lunch, we'd head over to an obliging library for presentations explaining IMBCR goals, protocols, equipment, landowner communication, and potential field hazards.
So now I've driven across the state to St. George, taking a day of rest before setting out to my first survey grids. Not entirely a vacation, since after this missive I'll be back to researching my sites. They're giving me a little anxiety, seeing as four out of five of them have never been visited. Which means I've got to figure out the best way to get there, where to camp, how long a walk to the site it'll be, if there's a giant cliff in the middle, where we don't have permission to go, where's the nearest gas, etc. Burning questions that won't really be answered until I get there. Just to be safe I think I'll survey the known site first, but in the mean time I'm going to get as much information from Google Earth and Google Maps as I can. Hope all goes well!
Exactly a week ago I arrived in Ephraim (locally pronounced EE-frem), to camp and begin IMBCR training. Besides myself there were the other two IBO techs, our two supervisors/coordinators, and about a dozen other birders from different organizations to learn the IMBCR protocols. The training went on through Saturday, so it's been a busy week. Mornings we visited different habitats and practiced point counts (bird surveys) and vegetation surveys. After a hodgepodge lunch, we'd head over to an obliging library for presentations explaining IMBCR goals, protocols, equipment, landowner communication, and potential field hazards.
So now I've driven across the state to St. George, taking a day of rest before setting out to my first survey grids. Not entirely a vacation, since after this missive I'll be back to researching my sites. They're giving me a little anxiety, seeing as four out of five of them have never been visited. Which means I've got to figure out the best way to get there, where to camp, how long a walk to the site it'll be, if there's a giant cliff in the middle, where we don't have permission to go, where's the nearest gas, etc. Burning questions that won't really be answered until I get there. Just to be safe I think I'll survey the known site first, but in the mean time I'm going to get as much information from Google Earth and Google Maps as I can. Hope all goes well!
Sandstone formations near Dewey Bridge, northeast of Moab
Fellow birders trekking back to camp after morning practice
Me on the drive to Moab, with Colorado River to the right and the La Sal range in the distance
Moab landscape with sage, juniper, and pinyon pine
Side-blotched lizard caught near Moab by someone way better at "herping" than myself
A very patient eastern collared lizard caught by a lot of people herding it to and fro
Moonrise at dispersed campsite near the confluence of Dolores and Colorado Rivers
NEW SPECIES: Horned Lark, Indigo Bunting, Gadwall, Virginia's Warbler
Close Encounter: Golden Eagle on a fence post
Monday, September 26, 2016
From the other side of the lectern...
So I'm back in the land of hot and humid. My car has been fixed and shipped back to me, although it took quite a bit of finagling and cajoling to arrange it. Since then, I've resumed teaching at the local community college.
This is my second time around with teaching a full course, I've straightened out the material and the major kinks. Still definitely a challenge and there's likely better ways to do things, but I have managed to learn a few things.
1. Act like you know what you're doing.
The weird thing about teaching from a textbook and experience is that the two don't line up perfectly. The class I teach is about a wide range of subjects in environmental studies, so there are a few subjects I'm not so strong with. Also, the textbook deals in absolutes. A lot of research is ongoing, changing. The definition of a "species" is changing, yet in a book it looks set in stone. So the key seems to be say it with confidence.
2. Rambling and nonsense happens.
When you have to talk for over an hour at a time, it's easy to get lost. You have no idea why this slide came next. Words start failing. It happens, at least to me. So I just have to stop, take a breath, and then get back on the rails.
3. Excuses can be anything and everything.
Yeah, people have other obligations, so if they're late or unable to show up for a class it shouldn't be a big deal. Most are legitimate reasons, but there's likely a percentage of bullshit artists. I try to be flexible, and usually let people make up quizzes. I give them all the notes they need. But there's only so far an excuse can go, and some due dates can't change.
4. For college students, they can be really dumb.
Everyone has asked a dumb question or two, or blanked on a simple answer. But there are also a weird number of dumb people. Truly dumb. I'm not talking about the people who show up, do the work, and then get some parts wrong. I'm more baffled by the people who sign up for a class, pay for a class, but then never show up or turn in assignments.
4. Occasionally, there will be a blindsiding question.
Sometimes there's a random question, sometimes it's a smart question that derails an entire argument. And then you stand there blinking like you've been hit by a brick. But there is room for an "I don't know."
This is my second time around with teaching a full course, I've straightened out the material and the major kinks. Still definitely a challenge and there's likely better ways to do things, but I have managed to learn a few things.
1. Act like you know what you're doing.
2. Rambling and nonsense happens.
When you have to talk for over an hour at a time, it's easy to get lost. You have no idea why this slide came next. Words start failing. It happens, at least to me. So I just have to stop, take a breath, and then get back on the rails.
3. Excuses can be anything and everything.
4. For college students, they can be really dumb.
Everyone has asked a dumb question or two, or blanked on a simple answer. But there are also a weird number of dumb people. Truly dumb. I'm not talking about the people who show up, do the work, and then get some parts wrong. I'm more baffled by the people who sign up for a class, pay for a class, but then never show up or turn in assignments.
4. Occasionally, there will be a blindsiding question.
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